


the more things change (the more they are the same)

by Whitefox



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Anakin is a brat with good intentions, Gen, Pre-slash if you like, Qui-Gon lives au, obi-wan just deserves to be chosen for once ok, which leaves Obi-Wan free to be bitter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-14 15:20:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14772143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whitefox/pseuds/Whitefox
Summary: Qui-Gon survives TPM, and lives to be Anakin’s Master.  However, some things are meant to be, and the Force (and therefore Anakin) has other ideas.





	the more things change (the more they are the same)

**Author's Note:**

> This was meant to be the beginning of a longer work, but I kinda guttered out for the time being. Still, hopefully some of you enjoy it!

*

 

Obi-Wan shifted, trying in vain to get comfortable on the small, utilitarian couch in his and his master’s shared quarters – or, rather, what _used_ to be their shared quarters.  Qui-Gon was no longer his master, but as the Council had yet to assign him his own rooms, both of Master Jinn’s apprentices, past and future, were forced to share for the night.  With Qui-Gon still in the med-center recovering from the injuries he’d sustained before Obi-Wan was able to finish off Maul, there _should_ have been enough beds for them both, but some lingering sense of thwarted possessiveness in Obi-Wan didn’t want Anakin anywhere near his old master’s room.  He’d offered the child his own bed instead, and banished himself to the couch.  Now, in the total darkness and silence of the Temple at night, Obi-Wan could admit to himself that he was sulking. 

It was all such a mess.  He and his master had never been the ideal pair, but Obi-Wan had still hoped his knighting would be one of the crowning moments of their partnership, a day when he would see pure pride and happiness in Qui-Gon’s eyes as he snipped off the braid, the day that he could finally say he had lived up to his master’s expectations.  Instead it had been a rushed affair, the first battle-Knighting in recent memory, performed by the Grandmaster as was customary while Qui-Gon lay unconscious in the med-center.  Now the absence of his braid made his heart twist with betrayal and hurt instead of pride every time he noticed it, and his master didn’t even know he’d been knighted and probably wouldn’t care.  When he woke his first thoughts would likely be for his precious chosen one, just like his last words were when he’d thought he was going to die.

_Skywalker._

Obi-Wan knew it wasn’t fair to dislike the boy for his Master’s actions, but the temperamental child made it easy.  He was talented yes, even Obi-Wan could sense that, but he was far too old to be a Jedi, especially with his background, and his personality was clearly unsuited for it.  Master Yoda had spoken of a great deal of fear in the boy, and it was true – fear and anger, and what else could really be expected of a child who’d grown up witnessing the worst sentient beings had to offer each other?  Training him would be a disaster.  And yet his master was all too happy – eager, even – to cast aside Obi-Wan for him.  Not that that was any real surprise.  Qui-Gon had never truly wanted him as an apprentice.

_The boy has potential like you never did.  You will only ever be mediocre.  That is why Qui-Gon can’t wait to get rid of you.  A disappointment to the end._

Obi-Wan huffed and flopped onto his back, staring at the apartment’s ceiling in the darkness.  His thoughts were unkind and inappropriate for a Jedi, he knew.  But he couldn’t seem to let go of them.  Part of it, he suspected, was lingering effects from his brush with the dark side in his duel with the Sith apprentice – in his report to the Council he may have left out certain details about the fight they’d knighted him for winning.  But part of it was also simply the strained parts of his relationship with Qui-Gon coming to light.  The dark side, after all, would have no pull if the things it whispered weren’t fundamentally true to some degree.

A light clicked on in Obi-Wan’s – now Anakin’s – room.  Obi-Wan stayed stubbornly still and silent as shuffling footsteps approached and the door slowly squeaked open.

“Um…Jedi, I mean, Knight Kenobi?  Are…are you awake?”

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and took a deep breath, finally making an attempt to release his twisting emotions into the Force.  He didn’t have much success.  “Yes?” 

To his deep dismay, the shuffling footsteps came closer.

_Go away you brat, go away goawaygoaway--_

“I can’t sleep.”

The boy’s voice was tiny and scared.  Obi-Wan finally opened his eyes.  Anakin was standing right beside him, lit softly by the glow of light coming from his room, eyes wide and biting his lip. 

 _He’s just a child,_ Obi-Wan reminded himself.  _Just a young, scared child alone on an unfamiliar planet.  He’s not to blame for any of this_.  He made an effort to suppress the dark thoughts he couldn’t rid of, for the moment.  He was a Jedi Knight; he could show compassion even for this child.  Reluctantly, he sat up.

“What’s wrong?  Nightmares?”

“Um…yes, but…”  Anakin paused, gnawing on his lip some more.  “…are you okay?”

Obi-Wan stared.  Of all the things…had the child seriously gotten up in the middle of the night to see if _Obi-Wan_ was all right?

“I just…you don’t feel…okay.”

 _Force._ He must have felt it.  The dark side that still clung to Obi-Wan, Anakin must have picked up on it and it had been giving him nightmares.  Obi-Wan ran a hand over his face, suddenly feeling horribly guilty.  Such an incredibly sensitive child, of course he would be effected by such things.  Obi-Wan should have realized.

…But then, no one else had.  Obi-Wan had stood in front of the full Council today, and had been simmering with resentment towards his master for days before that, and no one had asked after or shown the least concern for his peace of mind or stability.  No one but this young, talented child, who had seen so much and was looking so lost and hesitant that he wouldn’t even meet Obi-Wan’s eyes.

Because of that, or perhaps because the dark side was still clinging to his thoughts and tilting them oddly, Obi-Wan decided to tell Anakin the truth.

“No,” he said, simply.  “I’m not okay.”  He sat up properly and patted the cushion next to him for Anakin to hop up.  The child did, still looking hesitant, but immediately made himself at home in a nest of Obi-Wan’s blankets until all that was visible were wide blue eyes and a mop of golden hair, bright in the darkness.

“How much do you know about Padawan training?”

Anakin shrugged.  “That I’m too old.”

Obi-Wan refused to show his annoyance at the sulkiness in his voice.  “Do you know why that matters?”

Anakin turned even sulkier, if possible.  “Because I’m afraid, I guess.  But that’s not true!  Could I have won that podrace if I was so _afraid_?  Could I have—”

“That’s not quite it,” Obi-Wan derailed the outburst smoothly.  “Do you know I can’t even remember my parents?  I know I must have lived with them for a time, and they must remember me.  But the Jedi are the only family I’ve ever known.”

Anakin was silent, now.  He was frowning slightly, as if he thought Obi-Wan might be lying.  No doubt it was hard for him to imagine growing up away from his mother.

“The Jedi frown on attachments,” Obi-Wan continued.  “Strong attachments, like between parent and child, can be the source of dark emotions.  You love your mother, and because of that, you fear losing her.”

Anakin glared, defiant.  “So?  You’re afraid of losing Qui-Gon.”

Obi-Wan closed his eyes, thrown by just how clearly this child was able to see.  This much sensitivity in one so young and untrained was truly dangerous.  “I am.  Worse, I feel that I’ve already lost him.  To you.”

Anakin blinked, startled.  He probably hadn’t expected such honesty.  Well, if there was one thing Obi-Wan could still offer in the midst of his darkness, it was that.  Maybe the boy would appreciate it.

“Qui-Gon is the closest thing I have to a father,” Obi-Wan continued when Anakin remained silent.  “And I am…prone to strong attachments.  How would you feel if your mother suddenly chose another little boy off the street to be her son, and told you to leave to make room?”

“Mom wouldn’t do that,” Anakin grumbled, grumpy again.  “But if…the other boy really needed it…I wouldn’t mind.”

Obi-Wan just raised an eyebrow, drawing out the moment as Anakin’s glare hardened and hardened and then finally snapped under its own weight and he looked down at the floor.

“I’d be mad,” Anakin admitted, barely audible.  Then something seemed to occur to him suddenly and he looked up, expression clear and curious again.  “But you’re not supposed to have attachments.  Are you a bad Jedi?”

 _Such mood swings_ , Obi-Wan thought, and shrugged.  “I guess so.  Or Qui-Gon’s a bad Master.”  Saying those words aloud, even as unfair as he knew them to be, was darkly satisfying.

“Well, I think that’s dumb.  Love is a good thing.  My mom always says I’m her reason to get up in the morning, and we wouldn’t have made it through half the _poodoo_ we did without each other.  If something helps you to be brave, or to do hard things, then how can it be bad?”  As Obi-Wan processed that, considering the best way to answer, Anakin seemed to come to a decision and added quietly, “But maybe Qui-Gon’s been pretty dumb too.”

 _That_ startled Obi-Wan into an actual laugh.  The sound startled Anakin too, who jerked back at first, but then he grinned, toothy and bright, innocently pleased to have made Obi-Wan happy.

“Hey, why don’t you be my teacher?”

Obi-Wan stopped laughing, but the smile stayed on his face.  He knew it was an impulsive request, made by a child trying to continue his winning streak of making an adult happy, and he didn’t take it seriously.  But the thought was sweet, regardless, and even though this was wildly _not_ how a Jedi was supposed to deal with dark emotions, Obi-Wan had to admit it did make him feel better to know that even for a moment, Qui-Gon’s precious chosen one was choosing _him_.

“I’m way too young to be anyone’s teacher, Anakin,” he said, a hint of laughter still in his voice.  “I was just made a Knight today!  And I didn’t even pass my trials in the normal way.  You’ll be much better off with Qui-Gon.”

 _He won’t, though.  Qui-Gon will indulge him, and he’ll only get more emotional._ You _balanced him out, he and Anakin will feed off each other._

Obi-Wan frowned at the unwelcome thought, but he couldn’t really disagree.  Qui-Gon was clearly enamoured with the child, and it was no secret that a good portion of the Council considered him more of a grey Jedi than not.  Obi-Wan’s own tendency toward strict adherence to the code had created a balance that served them both well, even if it meant they didn’t always get along.  But Anakin…perhaps they got along a little _too_ well.

Anakin was frowning at him too, but with a distracted air, as if he was listening to something.  The boy shuffled towards him on the couch, pushing at his arm until Obi-Wan lifted it and he could snuggle in at his side.  His mop of golden hair glowed warmly against Obi-Wan’s chest, but this close the Knight could also feel how dangerously thin the boy was. 

“I think you should be my teacher,” Anakin grumbled, partially muffled against Obi-Wan’s sleeping shift.  Obi-Wan attempted an awkward chuckle.

“You don’t really mean that.  I know you like Qui-Gon.”

“No!  It’s supposed to be us.  I can feel it.”  Small arms reached out to circle around Obi-Wan’s neck.  “You’re supposed to be mine.”

For the first time tonight, the unease that curled in Obi-Wan’s gut had nothing to do with his brush with the dark side.  “…Anakin?  What do you mean by that?”

“I mean it’s supposed to be _us!_ ”  Anakin sounded petulant, but there was no doubting the conviction in his voice.  “I’m not supposed to be anyone else’s Padawan, and you’re not supposed to go anywhere without me, ever again. ”

“Anakin…”  Obi-Wan wasn’t sure what to do with any of that.  He tried to shift away but Anakin clung like some sort of Tatooine desert octopus.  “I don’t know the first thing about training a Padawan.  The Council would never allow it, anyway.”

Anakin ignored his excuses, pulling away just far enough to look him in the eye.  His eyes were startlingly blue.  “Don’t you feel it?”

And Obi-Wan…did.  He _did_ feel something.  Though whether it was coming from the Force around them or from Anakin’s own instinctive manipulation of it, he wasn’t sure.  It didn’t feel wholly light either, this strange pull to the boy at his side, but neither could he say for sure it was dark.  Instead it boiled with a clouded sort of potential, like a storm rolling in that hadn’t yet decided whether it would bring sheets of burning lightning or a soothing blanket of snow. 

Qui-Gon’s golden Chosen One was a _kriffing_ time bomb.  And somehow, Obi-Wan suspected he had just become responsible for figuring out how to defuse it.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath and closed his eyes, going deeper.  The Force swirled around him, its soothing familiar eddies and lifelines now almost entirely purged of the darkness he’d been indulging earlier.  And at his side…for the first time, Obi-Wan took a serious look at Anakin in the force.

The boy burned like a _sun_.  He blazed with such pure potential power that focusing directly on him threatened to scorch away Obi-Wan’s awareness of anything else in the universe, including his own self.  His core was so bright as to seem almost limitless, but the edges of his aura were ragged and undefined, undisciplined, prone to engulfing any energy in his vicinity indiscriminately, dark or light or in between.  His every breath seemed to warp the force around him, and energy swirled idly around him as if just waiting to be given a command.  As if the force _wanted_ to obey him.  It was like nothing Obi-Wan had ever seen, and it was terrifying.

But…it was also _beautiful_.  And awe came far more easily to a trained Jedi than terror.  He understood Qui-Gon’s reaction better now, though he still doubted their own relationship would ever be the same.  Still.  This boy had to be trained, there was no question.  This much raw power couldn’t be allowed to fall into the wrong hands, not at this age.  He might be worryingly old for a Jedi, but he wasn’t nearly old enough to be safe from corruption, if such a thing were ever possible.

And…there.   There was that connection he’d felt.  It was slippery, more like a shadow of a bond or a placeholder than anything, but it was there.  And despite its hazy, undecided quality, Obi-Wan could feel nothing but comfort from it.  He had the strange sense that it had always been there if he’d only known to look for it, and always would be.  He tried to focus more closely on it and got a flash of smoke, fire, screams – but also laughter, and warmth, and a soul-deep companionship and certainty.  Attachment-prone and newly adrift as he was, something in Obi-Wan ached for that feeling.

And then a flash, so brief that he was only able to pick out a handful of details, but he saw them: himself, older but still far too young to be a Master, his hair finally grown out of the awful Padawan cut, with a beard that Obi-Wan just knew was a desperate attempt to make himself appear older and wiser; and at his side, a taller man dressed in forbidding black with wavy golden hair who carried himself with an almost predatory confidence.  The second man had no Padawan braid, but the way they moved together spoke of a years-long familiarity that could only come from one thing, at their age.  And around them both, the Force _sang_. 

Obi-Wan fell out of the trance gasping, his heart racing.  Anakin was right in his face, hands on his shoulders and watching him with wide, worried eyes.  After the vision his youth was jarring and disorienting, and when Obi-Wan raised a hand to his own face he was almost surprised not to feel a beard.

 _The Chosen One’s Chosen One_ , Obi-Wan thought randomly, and had to stifle an almost hysterical laugh.

“Obi-Wan?  Obi-Wan, are you okay?  What was it, what happened?”

“I’m fine, Anakin,” he tried to wave the boy off before the edge of panic in his voice could grow.  “Don’t worry.  It just took me by surprise.  I have the gift of precognition, but it’s rarely useful or predictable.”

Anakin scrunched up his nose.  “Pre…cog…?”

“ _Precognition_.  It means I see visions of the future, very occasionally.”

Anakin’s face lit up like a Coruscant casino.  “You saw us, didn’t you!  What did we look like?  What we were doing?  Did I have a lightsaber?  Oh, were we fighting together?  What—”

Obi-Wan held his hands up in a futile attempt to slow the questions, but he was smiling just a little despite himself.  He considered how much he should say, but then, honesty did seem to be his theme for the night.  “It was just a flash, Ani.  We were just walking.  But I’m pretty sure you had a lightsaber, yes.”  Obi-Wan reached out to ruffle his desert-dry hair, and Anakin didn’t flinch.  “Your hair was curly.  You’d grown it out.”

“My mom says it was curly when I was little,” Anakin said in a hushed whisper, oblivious to the fact that he was _still_ quite little.  “You called me Ani.”

Obi-Wan blinked.  “I did, didn’t I.”

The smile Anakin gave him was small and soft, and felt all the more vulnerable and genuine for lacking the boy’s normal brashness.  Apparently assured that Obi-Wan was fine, he snuggled back into the Knight’s side and closed his eyes.

“Can I stay here?”  The words were so soft that Obi-Wan would’ve missed them if they hadn’t echoed faintly in the Force.  Already this connection felt close in a way that Obi-Wan’s bond with Qui-Gon never had; they had easily mastered wordless communication and the more purposeful aspects of the bond, but Qui-Gon had been too distant for anything like this effortlessly warm comfort that Anakin seemed to radiate.  Obi-Wan wondered whether Anakin felt something similar from him, or whether Obi-Wan was a distant, cold star in the Force like Qui-Gon had always seemed to him.

Probably the latter.

Obi-Wan sighed.  Whatever his own inadequacies would be as a master, he refused to let any Padawan of his feel unwanted.  Although, of course, Anakin Skywalker was _not_ his Padawan.  He was his old master’s mess to deal with.

But he was Obi-Wan’s responsibility for this one night at least.

“Come on,” he murmured, pushing the sleepy child upright.  “There’s no point in us both suffering on this couch.  Go on back to bed.  I’ll join you in a minute.”

Anakin stood but made no move to head back to his room.  When Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow at him, he just crossed his arms and glared, clearly not willing to let his proclaimed future teacher out of his sight.  Obi-Wan rolled his eyes.

“It’s not like I have anywhere else to sleep either, you know,” he pointed out.  “I’m not going to vanish into the ether.”

“I have to keep the dark away,” Anakin insisted, grouchy about the teasing but committed.  Obi-Wan felt his heart soften a bit more.

“I’m all right now, Ani.  I promise.  Go on, I’ll be just a minute.”

Anakin stared him down for a few moments longer but finally turned and shuffled back to his room, grumbling under his breath.  Obi-Wan heard the creak of the bed as Anakin slid under the covers, but the light didn’t click off.

Alone once more, Obi-Wan turned his attention to his robes, folded in a careful pile on the end table.  He rifled through the pockets until he found the small object he was looking for, and then padded silently into his old master’s room.

He could count on his hands the number of times he’d stepped into this room as a Padawan, and most of those times had been to fetch something for his master.  Still, the room felt familiar.  It hummed with Qui-Gon’s force signature, and the multitude of plants everywhere spoke to the presence of the Master of the Living Force.  Obi-Wan’s own room was much more spartan, due to both his status as a Padawan but also his increasing lack of attachment of material possessions as the years of his training progressed.

And to be fair, Qui-Gon Jinn was no hypocrite; apart from the plants, his room had few personalized touches as well, and hardly any personally significant items.  Still, Obi-Wan hoped his old master would allow him to add one more.

Scanning for a clear surface that wasn’t clogged with plants, Obi-Wan wandered over to the leafy bookcase against one wall.  There was a spot on the top shelf that would do.  Obi-Wan didn’t want him to miss the gift, but neither did he particularly want it to be the first thing the man saw when he stepped into the room.

He had, in his dark hours there on the couch, considered keeping his padawan braid for himself, perhaps even destroying the thing.  But now that he was thinking more clearly he knew there was no real choice.  Qui-Gon had taught him much and he would always be grateful.  Even if he was a disappointment overall, Obi-Wan could pay him back with this, at least.  And he would leave it here for the Jedi Master to find at his own leisure and spare him the need for an emotional confrontation.  When Qui-Gon returned, Obi-Wan would be packed up and gone.  They need never see each other again.

Without letting himself dwell on it any further, Obi-Wan left the braid on the shelf and went back to his old room.

The light was still on, and Anakin was a small lump under the covers.  Obi-Wan tried to slide into the other side without disturbing the boy, but the moment his weight tilted the mattress Anakin was on him, clinging like a baby ewok.  Obi-Wan sighed and switched off the light with a wave of his hand, plunging the room into darkness.

“You’re upset,” Anakin whispered, nearly knocking his head into Obi-Wan’s chin in what would have been a painful crack as he turned pointlessly to look up at him in the darkness.  Obi-Wan attempted to shift into a safer position.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan allowed.  “But I’ll be all right.  I would have been more upset later if I hadn’t done it.”

“What did you do?”

 _Sleep_.  Why couldn’t they just go to sleep?  “I said goodbye to my master,” Obi-Wan decided after a moment.  He didn’t want to get into the details, and it was as fitting a summary as any.

“Oh.”  Anakin seemed to chew this over for a while.  “How can you say goodbye if he’s not here?”

“He would prefer it this way.  He’s not a fan of emotional displays.  And it’s better I leave without saying anything I’ll regret.”

Anakin burrows closer into his chest.  “You’re still sad.  Why did you have to say goodbye if it made you sad?  The healers said he’ll be coming back.”

“Yes.  But I won’t be.”  Obi-Wan could feel Anakin’s alarm whip up like a miniature Tatooine sandstorm, and he rushed to explain.  “Not like that, Anakin, I just meant I’ll be gone from these rooms by the time the healers release him.  Our parts in each other’s lives are over, and it’s time to move on.  He’ll have you, and I…I’ll have my own missions.  It’s for the best.  I’m afraid I’ve been a burden to him; he never wanted to train me like he wants to train you.  It will be easier for both of you if I’m not around.”

“Well, he’ll be alone then, because I’m staying with you,” Anakin said stubbornly.  “If we choose each other then that means we’ll always be together, right?  Like you saw?”

Obi-Wan didn’t know what to safely say to that, but he felt the bond-that-wasn’t thrum in agreement.  And looking back on his vision, where the blond man at his side had had no Padawan braid, Obi-Wan couldn’t exactly argue.

“Go to sleep, Ani,” he sighed instead, pressing an absent kiss to the top of the boy’s head.  “We’ll talk more in the morning.”

“Staying with you,” Anakin mumbled, but Obi-Wan could feel his mental presence relaxing into sleep.  With relief, Obi-Wan allowed his eyes to drift closed as well.  Sleep felt much more achievable now.  And though Obi-Wan hadn’t been this physically close to someone in longer than he could remember, the experience wasn’t _too_ unpleasant.  The situation was bearable.  For one night.

There were no more nightmares in Master Jinn’s quarters that night.

 

*

 


End file.
